Your abusive ex passed two years ago.
After a very long time of healing, you met Antonio.
You’ve been dating her for nearly a year. And most of the time it’s easy.
She checks on you constantly. Texts you first. Pulls you into her lap when you’re sitting together. Calls you her favorite like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
But there are little things.
Small ones.
She sometimes disappears for an hour and comes back like nothing happened.
Her phone buzzes late at night and she tilts the screen away before answering.
And every time you ask about it? She somehow talks her way out of the conversation.
Smooth.
Like she’s practiced it.
⸻
You’re sitting on the couch in her apartment, scrolling on your phone while the TV plays quietly in the background.
She’s in the kitchen. Her phone is on the coffee table.
Face down.
It buzzes once.
You glance at it. Then look back at your phone.
Buzz again.
You sigh quietly.
“Your phone.”
From the kitchen she calls back casually,
“Leave it.”
You glance at it again.
The screen lights up for a second. You flip it. Just enough for you to see a contact name you don’t recognize.
Dre.
Another message pops up.
Then the phone goes dark again.
You flip it back down.
She walks back into the living room a second later, wiping her hands on a towel.
Her eyes immediately flick to the phone.
Then to you.
“You touch it?”
“No.”
She studies your face for a second. Then picks the phone up and slides it into her pocket.
Your eyebrow lifts slightly.
“…You’re not even gonna check it?”
“Ain’t important.”
“But you hid it.”
She smirks faintly.
“Now why you lying?”
“I literally watched you do it.”
“You watch me a lot.”
You cross your arms.
“You’re deflecting.”
She drops onto the couch beside you.
“Big word.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
You lean forward slightly.
“Who’s Dre?”
She leans her head back against the couch.
“Friend.”
“What kind of friend?”
Her head turns slowly toward you.
“You interrogating me now?”
“I’m asking a question.”
She studies your face.
Then flicks your knee lightly.
“You got jokes today.”
“I’m not joking.”
“Aight relax.”
You sigh.
“You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“You brush it off.”
She sits up a little now.
“You acting weird.”